


This Ugly Thing

by plsnskanks (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plsnskanks
Summary: Matt has a problemTord is that problem





	This Ugly Thing

Tord has this ugly thing.

It’s called pride. Which is accompanied by an even worse trait: stubbornness. 

It’s the reason why he is halfway into heat and refuses to let anyone help him. Ever. Not even once. Matt honestly doesn’t know how Tord is this inhumanely obstinate, but here they are. They’ve been dealing with it like this for months. Tord didn’t mention it when he moved in. It was only the third week when everything had settled down that their little problem had first surfaced.

Matt notices the way each month it gets a little worse. Tord looks a little more on edge, the things to set him off get a little more minor. 

Edd and Tom had found a variety of ways to cope with it. Locking their doors and shoving a towel in the crack or leaving the house being a few of the favorites. The latter was their current choice. 

Matt has the towel in place under the door and is subconsciously grinding his teeth while he tries to flip through a magazine. Honestly. It’s Saturday. His day off. He just wants to relax and enjoy the day lazing about the house, but because of Tord and Tord’s stupid ideals, he’s confined to his room like a kid in timeout.

There’s a soft knock on the door and Matt ignores it until it sounds again, this time harder and more persistent. He opens the door to be hit with a wave of heat stench and the sight of a sweaty little Norwegian, eyes downcast, hands gripping the bottom of his hoodie.

Matt sighs and leans on the doorframe.

“Hey Tord, how are you this morning.”

“Bad,” Tord mumbles, still not looking up at him.

“I see….” Matt leaves the silence open waiting for Tord to fill it. Instead he just shifts back and forth one foot to another and Matt wants to roll his eyes as much as he wants to slam the door and jack off.

“Do you need help?” he asks the question out loud but in his head he is praying it doesn’t set off the kind of screaming match it usually does when Tom brings up Tord’s biology.

He gets this very small, very timid nod from Tord and some of the tension dissipates a little as Matt moves aside to allow Tord entrance. He shuffles in, foot catching on the bottom of the door frame, leading him to stumble a bit. Matt reaches out a hand to steady him. Tord doesn’t really pull back from him, he just stands there mumbling something in Norwegian for a moment, eyes foggy.

“Tord are you… okay?” Matt asks. What he wants to do is put a hand on Tord’s cheek to check his temperature. But that’s rude and he knows this is hard enough on Tord already without someone trying to feel out how bad his heat is.

“H-yeah, I think, you know, I’m good. I’m going to go… take a shower,” Tord says and he is turning around, shuffling out of the room like a zombie, once again nearly tripping as he makes it over that damn doorframe. Matt would like to stop him. Would like to take him back to bed. His bed.

But there’s this ugly thing called respect.

And so Matt lets him go, shuts the door, jams the towel under it, flips on his music extra loud and tries to jack off to the lingering scent in his room and the memory of Tord’s needy face.

He waits an hour and the figures it’s safe to go out, grab a snack, whatever. Just get out of his mess of a room to explore their mess of a house. The hallway is clear so Matt takes it as his cue. He is walking down past the bathroom when he hears the bathroom shower still going.

Okay. Long shower then. Matt is tempted to knock but he figures it’s better to give Tord his space. He goes downstairs, makes himself a sandwich. Watches a bit of brainless tv. That’s another hour. Heads back upstairs. 

Shower still going.

Matt’s stomach drops a little and while he really is loathe to open the door on Tord, he tries knocking.

“Tord, you okay?”

Silence. Maybe a minute sound. Matt tries again. A louder knock. Still no response. When he tries the door its open so he pushes it and enters. He moves towards the tub noting small things like the medicine cabinet being ajar and Tord’s clothes being scattered on the ground.

Matt has seen each and every one of his housemate’s dicks an uncomfortable amount of times so while he isn’t absolutely repulsed by it, he’s also trying to toe boundaries. Thank god he is about as competent in dealing with his rut as Tord is incompetent or this living arrangement just flat out wouldn’t work.

“Hey, Tord, maybe you should get out,” Matt says looking at the tub where the curtains are drawn. He sees them waver a little. Then pull back completely as Tord flops over the side, red faced and miserable.

“Matt,” his skin prickles at the way Tord says his name. “Can you help me?” Tord’s hands stretch out towards Matt and then flop limply to the side of the tub. Matt bends down and slips his hands under Tords armpits and hoists him to his feet, looking skyward in an attempt to give Tord some form of dignity.

Which Tord casts aside anyways when he rubs his crotch on Matt’s leg like a dog. Matt wants to drop him right then. Instead he turns Tord around.

“You want to go back to your room? You okay to get there on your own?” Matt asks as he looks at the downcast head in front of him.

“Can I… take you up on that help offered earlier?” Tord says, tilting his head back to make eye contact with Matt.

Matt is silent for a long moment. There’s no guidebook for what to do in these kinds of situations. No little signs to outline the right and wrong things to do.

“Tord, how about we just go back to your room for now?”

He gets that small nod again, so stiff and restrained he barely notices it. Matt helps him there. Tord presses himself uncomfortably close and Matt knows he’s got a ticking timer, an hourglass that is slowly leaking out his self-control. He opens the door and helps Tord over to a chair while he himself sits on Tord’s bed.

Tord is slumping back in the chair, sweat running down his face. Matt throws him a pillow to cover himself.

“Hey Tord, listen, do you want help with this whole heat deal?”

“Yeah,” Tord says, closing his eyes and leaning against the chair. He sits there for a long moment, collecting himself, and then boom, Tord is back in the room ladies and gentlemen. He opens his eyes and it is eerie how present he is after being so far gone for a while.

“Really Tord, really do you want me to help, or are you just having a hard time?” Matt asks, putting hard emphasis on “me”. If he’s being honest, he has … emotions… directed in Tord’s general direction. And they are confusing enough as it stands.

Tord leans forward locking eyes with Matt, “Look, if you are worried I am going to hold this against you, or make it weird. Don’t. I wouldn’t ask this from Tom or Edd, and if you can’t it’s fine.”

“You want me?” Matt says and he’s trying, trying so hard to keep that smug grin off his face. Tord doesn’t want it from anyone else, just him, does that mean-.

He wasn’t aware Tord could teleport but there he is, in his lap, naked, sweaty, and oh man he is really naked isn’t he?

“Listen I know you are mentally jacking off right now, so if you can maybe externalize it and include me,” Tord says, grinding down on Matt’s lap and letting out the kind of moan that is certainly not permitted in PG-13 movies. “That would be appreciated.”

Matt tentatively puts his hand on Tord’s back and runs his hand down it, trailing down to just above his a-

“Matt I swear to god, I was trying to fuck myself with your shampoo bottle in the shower, please, please, do not try to romance me right now,” Tord says and he is pressing his hands up on Matt’s stomach, feeling him up to his pecs and groping his crotch with his other hand. “God why are you so hot.”

Matt knows he is probably getting played like a sucker and Tord is going to stroke his ego and his cock, whatever gets him laid first. But it is all good and he is the pawn in Tord’s hand.

Wait no. He rates like, at least a bishop. He’s probably a queen on his good days. Maybe his good side is a queen and is other good side is more a bishop. 

Oh. Tord’s mouth is currently on his cock.

Matt’s snaps out of his thoughts to see Tord currently sucking his dick like it’s a straw with his other hand on his own cock. Tord looks up to Matt and pulls off with a pop, not bothering to wipe the thread of spit that follows him off. He smiles, one corner of his mouth hitching up.

“Glad to have your attention back where it matters.”

He has Tord in his room, naked and here he is letting his train of thought drive off a cliff several times over and there’s Tord’s finger disappearing up somewhere very interesting again. 

“Do you want me to….”

“Either you lay back and let me do what I want or I am going to touch you with hands that have been places,” Tord snorts.

“You already have- wait where else have your hands been?” Matt says, suddenly concerned about whether he needs to wash his clothes or burn them. Either way he unbuckles his pants and takes out his cock. 

“Don’t think about it,” Tord says and Matt really would like to think about it a little more but Tord is lining himself up and then Matt isn’t thinking about much of anything as he is sliding down his dick. Tord bottoms out and he is up and down, bouncing on Matt with the kind of practiced ease that makes him wonder what exactly Tord got up to behind closed doors. 

He tosses back his head and is letting off another one of those oh so melodic moans and Matt is maybe not as coherent and well controlled as he thought he was because one moment he is enjoying Tord riding him and the next Tord is making those noises into his mouth as he pins him down under him and fucks him like he doesn’t have to walk it off tomorrow.

Matt can feel it building and he just has to do it, has to slow the pace one more time, “Tord, are you okay with a knot?”

Tord takes a minute to respond, he opens an eye slowly, “Am I- Matt I am in your bed, you are balls deep and I am making noises like a hentai girl, what more consent do you need?”

“I just want to make sure,” Matt begins.

“I am sure,” Tord says and he is trying to scoot himself closer to Matt and if Matt’s eyes could roll any harder, they’d just be spinning endlessly inside his head.  
He pushes in and Tord is closing his eyes again as Matt tries to work himself in. All his stalling trying to get consent has actually backfired and Matt makes a mental note to get consent beforehand and to also just not let Tord become a hot mess during heat if he can control it. 

His knot pops in and there’s those noises that make it hard for Matt to keep himself slow, to keep himself in control. He thinks about Tord laying in the bathroom looking helpless and stupid but mostly helpless and Matt is kissing him and fucking him and maybe this isn’t quite what Tord asks for but Matt hopes to god it’s what he wants.

And it seems like some entity answers because Tord cums with a cry of Matt’s name and Matt is doing the same. It’s good it’s nice and so very per-

“Oh my god did you jerk off in the bathroom again it smells like your…” Tom takes one look at the scene before him, covers his nonexistent eyes, pulls a flawlessly graceful one eighty that would make any ballerina jealous, and slams the door shut.

Matt looks back down to see Tord looking sated, smug, and a little bit dopey.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you are giving me what I want,” Tord says smiling up at Matt.

“Uh, thank you?” Matt says and he hates that a little part of him flutters at the half praise.

“No problem, now make like Tom and get out,” Tord says, in this tone that makes Matt feel like he is brushing lint off his hoodie. And you know, Matt doesn’t have to take this, Matt doesn’t need some shitty omega telling him what to do. So he does exactly what he wants to do and collects his clothes and walks out with all the dignity and grace of a man who makes his own decisions.

Yup.

And he thinks about this ugly thing, he forgets about it all the time. Lust? Affection? Adoration? Some odd medley of the three? He’ll find the word for it sooner or later.


End file.
